Does God Really Want Us to Go to Church?

We woke up this morning with every intention on going to church. We got Camden fed, changed, and dressed. Of course, Tony had to stop by Starbucks on the way which started the whole chain of events.While waiting in the car for a grande latte with two raw sugars and a grande coffee frap with carmel sauce and whipped cream, Camden got into one of her moods. (We think she's going through another growth spurt, cranky and sleepy all the time like last month.) Then, as Tony opened the door to the car he spilled his latte down the front of his white t-shirt. "Oh well," he says, still determined to go to church. A little coffee isn't going to stop us from PRAISING THE LORD!!!

He then takes his shirt off (while driving of course, because we're late) and asks me to dry it. It was a warm day, so I figure the fastest way to dry a coffee saturated shirt is to hang it out the window! Just as I roll up the window to hold the shirt in place, I realize something. With a white t-shirt flapping like a flag out of a CRV down El Toro, I think "Crap."
I bring the shirt back in and look at Tony. Poor pale man, covered in tattoos. He desperately needs a shirt if we're going to church. BUT- the shirt is now not only covered in coffee stains but dirt stains as well from the window, and Camden's crying. So we turn around and come home. More time for blogging! ...and Camden's happy because she gets to go back to sleep.